


These Hands, Caked in Blood

by AnotherWriterWhoWrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Blood, Character Death, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Mind Manipulation, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 04:19:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17573753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWriterWhoWrites/pseuds/AnotherWriterWhoWrites
Summary: Sam is no stranger to blood of any sort, be it angel, demon, or human. However, while searching for his brother Michael gives him a call to come to him, leading him back down to the path of addiction and pain. Only this time, its archangel blood that tempts him, just as Michael wishes to twist him into something that he can control. Trying to break free to his brother and not fall back on the temptation of blood that gives him power Sam finds himself changing into something more than he can even think of containing.





	These Hands, Caked in Blood

Sam closed his eyes hard before forcing them open, his vision blurred for a moment before he was able to focus on the computer screen in front of him. Groaning he rubbed at them as he reached out, grabbing his mug. The lukewarm sludge on the bottom was staring up at him uninvitingly, he drank it anyway. 

He immediately regretted that decision, coughing to clear his throat of the mistake he just drank. He rubbed at his chest and tried to focus on the laptop in front of him once more, his finger moving aimlessly with the mouse. 

The room was surprisingly empty, the hunters from the other universe were somewhere else in the bunker and he could hear his mom and Bobby in the kitchen, hearing the sound of their voices but not able to make out any words.

Moving his head from side to side to crack his neck Sam leaned back into his seat and just stared at his laptop, not entirely sure what else he could do. There was no sightings or even hints of where Michael could be and he was stuck on what else he could do at this point. 

Sam felt his eyelids grow heavier again as his head started to droop forward, almost reaching blissful sleep before his entire body jerked up. The sudden jolt got him up on his feet and he started walking around the table. 

He moved his head from side to side, stretching his legs and rolling his shoulders back as he paced around the room. 

This restless wandering seemed to be the new norm for him. He couldn’t really remember the last time he had actually slept for longer than half an hour. 

Maybe it was a problem with the timing, maybe the place. His bed was too empty. Too empty, too cold, and too silent without his brother sleeping next to him. He would toss and turn, looking at the other pillow and all he could see was Dean missing and within minutes he was up and on his laptop once more. Even the car, still full of Deans scent and memories from nights on the road, couldn’t get him to rest. 

Then there was the problem of the alternate universe people. Not that he minded them needing a place to stay, but they looked at him and wanted a leader. They needed someone to guide them in this new and unfamiliar world, someone to get answers from, this responsibility had fallen to him. 

He couldn’t help but think that this would have been Dean’s role, had he been there. 

But Dean wasn’t here. The pain that gripped his heart at that thought was just as sharp as the first time. 

In all honesty, he could do without being a leader to a ragtag team of wanderers. On one hand it was somewhat satisfying to know that they were listening to him on what and how to hunt, to have those extra hands to take the stress of hunting off of him so that he could focus on finding his brother.

However, he hated those people. They didn't understand that that certain things they weren't allowed to touch and do as they wished. They didn't care that it was Dean in jeopardy as well, all they saw was Michael and he could hear their whispers of how they want to kill Michael once and for all, damn Dean in the process.

He felt a twinge of guilt at the thought that, given the choice, he would have given them all up to get Dean back

Shaking his head Sam put his hands on his lower back and arched it slightly, groaning as it made his spine crack and shift back into place.

Rubbing the back of his neck Sam sat back down in his chair and fought the urge to just put his arms up and close his eyes. His fingers went to his laptop and he flicked it to life, hesitating for a moment as he tried to figure out what to do now, should he hack into street cameras once more with face recognition or should he call someone to see if they had heard or seen anything.

Sam jumped in his sesat when he heard his cell phone going off, breaking him out of his thoughts. Calming himself down he reached out and lifted it. 

He stared at the unknown phone number, mentally going through any numbers he knew but hadn’t put into his contacts list. When he came up blank he pressed the green button and slid it across the phone, bringing it up. “Hello.”

“Sam Winchester, I presume.”

The familiarity of that voice made Sams heartbeat flutter and quicken. “Dean?” he whispered.

“Michael.” Dean, Michael corrected him. “The archangel.” he added, as if Sam already didn’t know that.

Slowly Sam breathed out, collecting his thoughts. “What do you want?” he asked, desperate to hear more of Deans voice, make him continue talking. He was halfway out of the main room on his way to find mom and Bobby. Gather the crew, make them track the call, help him find Dean. 

“Stop moving, I am only speaking to you.” Michael siad, his voice amused and smooth. “If you tell anyone else, I will hang up and you will never see your brother again.”

Sam stopped, a flood of nausea spreading through him, swallowing hard. 

“Good boy.” Michael said. “Now then, I want to see you, I want us to meet for real Sam.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, his hand coming to the table to hold himself up.

“Please, sit Sam. I don’t want you to fall.” Michael told him. He didn’t speak again until Sam did as he said. “Now, I’m going to give you some coordinates, it's a place I want you to go to.”

“For what?”

“You’ll find out.” Michael said, a smile still clear in his voice. “No, don’t get a paper and pen,” Sam pulled his hand back that had been reaching for exactly those things. “You’re smart Sam, you can remember them if I tell you.”

In other words, he didn’t want Sam to leave a trail to where he was going.

Sam glanced back towards mom and Bobby but remained sitting, nodding. “Alright, tell me.” he said, mind reeling as he tried to figure out what to do.

Mentally he made sure to memorize the coordinates that Michael listed off, trying to find a loophole where he could let someone know.

“I don’t suppose that I need to tell you to come alone, you already know.” Michael said. “Once you get to that town I want you to leave the car and walk the rest of the way, it's not that far and I know you can do it.”

Sam hated how Michael was almost complimenting him, he could hear the underlining, bordering on mockery of what he was actually saying. If anything it made him feel like an idiot, false compliments to get his guard down.

"What games are you playing at?" Sam asked, his hand curling into a fist to stop them from shaking. 

“I told you, I want to meet you.” Michael said. “I’ve been hearing quite a few interesting things about you Sam and I want to see it for myself.”

He didn’t like the sound of that but it was better than nothing, at the very least he would be closer to Dean than he was at this time. He could see his brother and try to figure something out that would help them get Dean back.

“And besides” Michael added, “there is someone else here that has certainly been needing to see you again."

That made a sharp surge of emotion shoot through him and he tightened his grip on the phone.

"Will I be seeing you here in, let’s say, two hours?" Michael asked, almost a smug tone to his voice as if he already knew the answer.

Sams mind flew as he calculated the fastest route and the best way to get there, He needed to find the right weapons, needed to let someone know where he was going, needed to scout the place out for a trap. It would most definitely be a trap. "I need three hours."

"You disappoint me, Sam." Michael told him. "Make it two, Otherwise I'll start getting impatient and then I won't wait."

Sam breathed out heavily and nodded. "Two." he agreed. "I'll be there."

"See you soon," Michael breathed out. "Sammy."

And with that Michael ended the call and all Sam was left with was the silence.

Taking several deep breaths to calm down Sam stood up. He glanced towards where his mom and Bobby were still talking before turning his back to them, jogging quietly to his room. 

Once there he grabbed his bag, filling it with every weapon within reach. Sam silently cursed himself, checking the time. None of the weapons would work against Michael, except perhaps the holy oil. Even though he could never dream of hurting Dean, it was a comfort to have it with him. 

He got into the impala, half for comfort and half in the hopes that it could do for Dean what it had once done for him. He got onto the road and pressed on the gas, hearing the engine roar to life as he started towards Hutchinson.

He ignored a majority of the road signs telling him to drive at a certain speed. He managed to make it to the town in one hour and 42 minutes, his heart racing the entire drive. A few times he had thought that he was going to lose his lunch before reaching his destination. 

He followed the directions and left the impala on a small dirt road ending with a steel gate. He hoisted the weapons bag off of the passenger seat before walking of. Turning around he made sure the trees and bushes was hiding the car from the main road. He was sure that if someone did try to take the impala the universe would crack and Dean would lose his freaking mind. 

On the other hand, Sam thought in a rush of lunacy, maybe Deans protectiveness over the car would be enough to bring him back from Michaels control.

Glancing at the clock again, Sam started to run towards the warehouse Michael had specified.

This was a trap. It was all a trap and he was walking willingly into it. Every single lesson their dad had taught him was shooting through his mind. He pushed it all to the side. Anything that would work to get his brother back from Michael, or at the very least see him again. He had to do this and if it meant getting caught in a trap, he would do that too. 

Every running step echoed in his ears along with his heartbeat, eyes alert to try to see a hint of what was coming for him. 

There was a smell of blood in the air that made him falter. It was barely there, barely noticeable but he knew what to look for, or in this case smell for. He continued on more carefully and adjusted his grip on the bag. 

It took a few more feet of walking before he saw the source of the smell. 

Dead bodies. Dead bodies littered all over and around him, eyes burned out in the tell tale sign of an angel attack and limbs askew. 

Swallowing down bile Sam kept going, forcing himself to ignore just how many bodies he passed. Some were stacked together in groups of five or six, that he could see, and some were on their own. 

Finally he snuck up on the warehouse, it looked like it had been abandoned to the elements for years and was falling apart, even from the outside he could see a part of the roof had caved in. 

Taking a moment he reached into his bag and pulled out an angel blade, he had left the archangel blade back in the bunker for safety, but found some sort of comfort in the warm metal. 

The second he wrapped his hand around the handle of the blade Sam heard the sound of wings fluttering in the air behind him and he whirled around, bringing the blade up. 

The blade didn’t do him much good as it was pulled out of his hand at the same time as he was thrown backwards to the ground. All his breath escaping as he landed. 

Groaning he pushed himself up, freezing when he saw Dean, Michael, looking down at him, a small smirk on his face. He held the angel blade with his fingertips and looked down at it, his other hand coming up to trail over it.

"Do you know what makes an angel blade?" Michael asked, staring down at it interestingly. There was a tone to his voice that Sam had never heard Dean use. If anything it made it easier for him to distance Michael from Dean. "Or why it can kill any angel?"

Sam slowly stood up, eyes firmly on Michael and breathing heavily, his one weapon that might've worked was in his hands and he didn't dare take the holy oil out just yet.

"The metal is not that interesting, it can be found on earth." Michael continued, playing with the blade in his hands. "However it has been infused with the grace of the angel that used to own it.  
That's what makes it powerful. And its constantly coursing through the blade, meaning it will never lose its power."

Michael flipped the blade around in his fingers gracefully before he slid it into the long overcoat he was wearing, something Dean would never have worn before. Nor the suit under the coat.

Michael stared at Sam for a few moments, his eyes raking over him from head to toe before his lips tilted upwards in a mockery of a smirk.

"I've been hearing a lot about you Sam." Michael said, slowly moving towards him. "From the beings I've been researching but mostly from Dean." His smirk widened. "Especially from Dean."

Sam breathed out harshly. "I'm here." he said lowly, his hands trembling. "I'm here like you asked, alone and no one knows. Let me talk to my brother."

Michael held up a finger. "I said you'll be able to see your brother." he corrected him. He waved his hand over himself. "And here he is, you can see him."

“That is not what I’m here for.” Sam snarled out, cold shivers running down his back. 

"Then you should've said something before you came here." Michael said simply, looking more amused by the second. "I've kept my end of the bargain, I said that you could see him, I never said anything about talking to him."

Sam felt his hands start to shake with growing fear and anger. "Let him go."

"No." Michael said simply and to the point. "As I was saying, I've heard a lot about you Sam. And I want to-"

"I don't care." Sam interrupted, watching Michaels eyebrow raise at the interruption. "I don't give a damn what you want or what you think or anything about you. You said you've heard about me? Then you've heard about what Dean and I will do for each other."

"Yes I have, I've seen all of Dean's memories and I know quite well what he has done for you." Michaels eyes raked over him again. "And what you've done for him."

He didn't like where this was going and he knew that whatever was going to happen, none of it was going to be good.

"This world is quite empty, quite lost." Michael mused as he walked around Sam, forcing him to turn to watch the archangel. "Every powerful being is gone, dead or missing. Even my father," he paused for a moment before continuing. "Though he has left his mark on a certain few before he left." he glanced at Sam once more. "He left his mark on you and Dean." 

"What's the point of all this?" Sam demanded, feeling some sort of indignation at being ignored as Michael continued talking as if he hadn't said a word. 

"I've been going around, talking to many people, trying to figure out a simple single thing, asking them all the same question over and over again." Michael continued. "No one has given me a satisfactory answer, the answer that would change it all. I thought for a moment that I had found those that did." he glanced around them at the piles of dead bodies that littered the area. "But I was wrong, and I shall admit to that. I made a mistake." 

"Which brings me to you, Sam Winchester." Michael said turning around to face him completely. "My brothers true vessel that forsake him. Sam Winchester, the boy king of hell. Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood." he stepped closer towards him. "Sam Winchester. What. Do you want?" 

Sam blinked at the question for a moment, not sure if he had heard him right. "Excuse me?" 

"It's a simple question Sam, and I want to hear your answer." Michael said. "What do you want?" Sam stared at him for a long silent second before he spoke. "I want my brother." 

Michael looked at him, considering his answer. "Surely you want something else." he said. "Your mother was brought back, a part of you surely wants your father back as well." 

"I want my brother back." Sam repeated, all but glaring at Michael. 

"You've tried to leave hunting quite a few times, leaving Dean during those times." Michael mused. "Perhaps that's what you really want, no more hunting and no more sacrificing for others." 

"I want my brother." Sam repeated, more focused that he had been in weeks. 

"Perhaps even that woman, Jessica Moore." Michael tried. "You were quite in love with her and destroyed when she was killed, perhaps you want her back to life instead?" 

Sam stepped forward, straightening up to as tall as he could be. He went towards Michael until they were centimeters away and he glared down at him, relishing in those few inches in a way he hadn't for a while. 

"I want." Sam said lowly, his voice dangerous and shaking in anger. "My brother." 

Michael stared at him, his eyes fixating on Sam's face before dropping down to where Sam was sure his soul was pulsating inside his chest. He could feel a small brush in his mind and he tried to push it out as best as he could. 

Then, surprisingly, Michael smiled at him, his eyes alight and what looked like pleasure skidded along his face. It almost looked like he had been given something he had wanted. "How...pure." Michael murmured. 

Before Sam could say another word he was thrown off of his feet once again, slamming against the wooden wall of the remains of the warehouse. When he tried to get up or move away he found that he was stuck to the wall, unable to move.

Michael walked towards him, a smile on his face. "Looks like I finally found simplicity." he murmured. "Your desire for your brother, your desire to be with him." his smile turned into a smirk. "It is simple enough, straight to the point, quite clear and so pure." His eyes were suddenly alight in blue grace. "It's worth being saved." The same blue light tinged around Sams vision for a single moment before it all faded to black and he was out cold, only being held up by Michaels mental hold.

________________________________________

Slowly Sam felt himself start to regain consciousness, coming back to himself bit by bit. Keeping his eyes shut he groggily started to categorize what condition his body was in and whether or not any of his weapons were still on him. He felt bruised and and banged up, however, none of his usual gadgets were on him, not even the small lock pick he kept sewn into his sleeve.

Then he realized that he couldn't move, sluggishly tugging at his restraints before he noticed the rope and chains around his ankles and wrists, keeping him pinned to the chair.

It was the sharp slide of a needle being pressed into his arm that made everything else come into focus, a small sound escaping his dry lips as he tried to tug at his restraints. 

"There we go." a familiar voice murmured. Sam let himself buy into the illusion for a moment before he remembered where he was, who he had gone to meet, and who exactly was talking to him. 

Fighting to open his eyes a hand under his chin helped him lift his head up. Striking emerald green eyes met his. So familiar in shape and color that Sam got a lump in his throat before noticing the wild, unfamiliar emotions pressed into them just under the surface. 

Michaels lips curled into a small smirk before the hand left Sams chin and lifted to run through his hair, a mockery of what it used to be. 

"Very good Sam." Michael murmured. "Very good, we're making a lot of progress."

Progress...progress of what? Sam blinked hard and tried to clear his mind through the fog, shaking his head.

Michael let go of his hair and by sheer force of will Sam managed to keep it up, staring up at Michael and taking in more of his surroundings. He was tied to a sturdy wooden chair in the middle of a dark room. The only light source was a small light directly above him. This made it harder to see other things in the room. He wasn't certain but he thought he could sort out unmoving bodies along the walls. Only a small amount of light was coming in through a tinted windows. 

"I did have my reservations about doing this to you, I did try to do so with various vampires. Werewolves. Even a few witches that I thought would be able to withstand it." Michael said walking towards an altar a few feet away. "But I also had a very good feeling about you. After all, you have a history of this."

A history....of what? Sam squeezed his eyes shut , working his way through whatever he could feel coursing inside of him. Sam looked down at his arm. It was tied securely down to the armrests, exposing his bruised skin. A fresh flood of nausea went through him. His forearm was full of tiny needle pricks. Michael was injecting something, but he couldn't tell what he was using nor how long he had been doing it for. 

"I must say however," Michael smiled and his eyes flashed a bright blue once again. "It's going quite beautifully so far."

His eyes widened as his vision finally cleared and he saw exactly what Michael was doing. He rolled his sleeve up and brought the syringe to his own arm before pushing the needle into his vein and slowly drawing it out. His eyes fell to the vial and he could see his brothers blood, as well as ribbons of what he had to assume was angel grace floating in there as well.

When Michael came to him, syringe in hand Sam finally came to life, jerking in his ropes.

"That's the spirit Sammy, don't give up just yet." Michael said encouragingly. "Got worried for a bit there, thought you were going to kick it but no, you're not like that." He reached out and gripped at Sams chin once more. "You're different, you're stronger than the others. That's why I know you're the better one." He brought the syringe up and despite how Sam tried to struggle or yank even a bit to the side it was all for naught as Michael buried the syringe into his arm and pressed down the plunger. 

What felt like fire was coursing through him, causing him to arch in pain as he gritted his teeth, letting the pain at the very least help to clear his mind enough to think again.

"What the hell..." Sam gritted out. "Are you doing to me?"

"Your brother keeps asking the same question, demanding to know." Michael said. "And I'll tell you the same thing, it doesn't matter what I do to you. What I don't do to you. Because,"

With that Michael brought his arm forward through Sams chest, pushing past bone and muscle, forcing ribs to the side as he reached in deep to wrap his fingers around Sam's soul as Sam screamed.

Slowly, watching his face carefully, Michael removed his arm from Sams chest and allowed the human to collapse, being held up only by the ropes once more as he felt as if he had been momentarily skinned.

"I own you."

________________________________________

Time slowly started to blend together. He wasn't sure how long he had been in Michaels grasp. Each injection made it harder to think and he couldn't rely on his inner clock to keep track of time like he had before.

The times he was conscious and could actually think through the haze Sam tried to feel if he was feeling any different, anything from the numerous injections that Michael was putting into him.

There was definitely a growing itch under his skin that he desperately tried to ignore and push to the side, the growing hunger inside of him of something that he thought he had gotten over and managed to put behind him.

It was a shame he felt to the deepest parts of him, something that brought up countless memories of nights filled with sin and depravity. His lips curled around the cut of an arm as he drank as deeply as he could, tongue flicking and teeth pressed deep to keep the wound open.

He wanted more. He wanted more of the injections. He wanted more of the blood tinged with grace. With each injection he could taste it, flavor erupting on his tongue and soothing some part of him that he didn't want to think about anymore.

It replace everything else really, towards the height of his previous addiction he was able to forgo everything else. Food, drink, even sleep. He wasn’t sure of the chemistry, didn’t really want to go in depths of what it all meant and what it did to him, but he didn’t need those things so long as he got a steady stomach full of what really mattered.

He had been sober almost nine years, he wasn't sure if sober was the right word to use but it was the only one he had. Nine years of never breaking regardless of the circumstances, regardless of how many times he had faced it.

There was a time when he had no soul, he had remembered the power that he had at that time and had for a few weeks debated whether or not to go back to that power. 

In the end he decided against it, he had remembered the power but also the addiction and decided that the cons outweigh the pros.

Nine years. Nine years of not having a single drop. Nine years of just barely being tempted during his darkest nights but ultimately being able to ignore it and go on with his life.

Nine years and here he was again. Desperation growing, he was hungry for more and more until it was all he could think about. his stomach was twisting and his heart pumped blood so quickly he could hear the rushing in his ears. 

Sam tried shaking the feeling away and flinched when Michael came walking towards him, a newly filled syringe in hand. He desperately tried to suppress the growing hunger but judging by the smirk on Michael's face he knew exactly what Sam was thinking and how he was feeling.

This time though, Sam didn't fight or move away from the injection. 

It took everything he had not to push into the syringes needle to get as much blood as he could, before he was out cold again.

________________________________________

When next time Sam woke he found Michael staring at him, unmoving. There was an unfamiliar calm in the air. Sam had simply leaned back in his seat and met Michals gaze. The pain of seeing Deans face like this was still there but he found that he could ignore it for the time being. and just like that they just stared at each other in silence, letting the time pass and then, another injection.

Michael had gotten rid of the overcoat and the suits jacket, leaving him in just the vest and shirt.  
He had his hands clasped behind him as he stared at Sam, he wasn't even sure if Michael was breathing as he watched.

Angels, he knew, were able to stay like that for a long time., He had seen Cas do that for hours on end when he had been at full power. Sam wasn't going to be the first one to break the silence, he knew in some part that would be admitting some sort of weakness, so he stared at the other archangel and tried to think of other things, anything other than his brother.

There wasn't much to pick from, memories without Dean in some way, shape, or form.

He tried to think about mom for a bit, surely she was trying to find him by now, if she wasn’t busy doing something else. Bobby and the other hunters would most likely be helping as well, if they cared enough about their fearless leader. Cas, and Jack too especially, or at least he hoped so. He knew that Dean would most of the time have a better relationship with the people in their lives so sometimes he was pushed to the side or didn't have the same meanings with those people and-

He wasn't supposed to think about Dean and he was already failing for what seemed the umpteenth time.

He tried instead to think about the books he had read, some of them he read so many times he basically memorized them. He tried to think of how the words went, trying to mentally read them.

After some time Michael did move, filling another syringe with his blood and grace and injecting it into Sam. He reached out and tipped Sams head up again , staring into his eyes once he was done, still silent, still just watching.

Slowly everything started to merge together, an endless stream of stillness and injections, stillness and injections, stillness and...

Sam’s body started shaking violently as he slipped into a seizure. He was tugging at the ropes as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Fingers slid through his hair, holding him tightly. Sam barely managed to open his eyes, staring unseeingly at the other being looking down at him.

When the fingers touched his cheek he could feel a sharp pain shooting through him. His entire body froze and he could feel what seemed like pure electric power course through him. Blue light surrounded his vision. Flashes of something he could barely see or grasp. A surge of power, so familiar he could almost put a name to it, was working its way through his very fingertips, exploding at the slightest ficker of his will. And more blue light. Always the blue light that surrounded him completely, dulling everything else.

His stomach growled in hunger as his soul ached.

________________________________________

When he came to there was a glass of cold liquid being pressed against his lips and he drank from it, relishing in the sweet water that slid down his throat. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten anything this good.

Sam flinched when he felt Michaels hands brush away a stray drop of water. At the corner of his mind he automatically knew that the touch was different but at the same time, he couldn't help but move away from it.

"Sammy. Sammy."

Sam's eyes snapped open, a part of him always intoned to the voice and the simple and pure way it was spoken, a million times different than what he had been hearing ever since he had seen Michael.

"Dean?" Sam whispered, and at that moment, that very moment, he looked at him he knew that it was Dean, not Michael, Dean on his knees in front of him begging him to wake up. 

"Sammy." Dean all but gasped out, relief and pure, bone deep love clear in his voice. Fingers fumbled for the ropes that were tied to him, tugging desperately. 

"Dean." Sam managed to get out, a little louder this time. The moment he could he slid his wrist free and clawed at his other wrist, his fingers still and barely moving. "How...what?"

"I don't know." Dean whispered. "I don't...I don't know." Finally the rest of the ropes fell away and Sam slid out of the chair into his brothers arms. The two of them just holding each other.

"Sammy." Dean gasped out, hands gripping at him tightly. "I'm sor-"

"Don't. It wasn't you." Sam immediately said, cutting his brother off. "It's not your fault, none of it."

"All of this happened because of me." Dean said, bowing forward until he could press his forehead against Sam's shoulder. "Because I said yes to him and then he-"

"He used you." Sam told him. "You said yes so that you could kill Lucifer, to save me and Jack. What Michael did...that wasn't you."

From the look on Dean's face he didn't believe a word Sam said, but he was still leaning into him heavily and letting out a great shuddering breath. 

Sam was breathing heavily himself, there was a dry taste in the back of his mouth that he tried to push away. Instead he wrapped his arms tighter around his brother and just held onto him. 

"Michael." he whispered. "Where is he? What did he do?"

"I don't know." Dean said, his voice heavy and shaking. "One second...he's in me and the next...I'm here. I'm in control and...he's gone."

It had to be some sort of trap, some sort of something., it was going to come back and bite them in the ass.

But for the time being, all he wanted to do, all he needed to do, was just hold onto his brother and relish in the sensation of being with him once again.

Sam leaned back enough to look at his brother, swallowing hard as his eyes dropped down to rest on Dean’s lips. The urge to meet them with his own, to taste his brothers lips instead of his blood, made his stomach churn. It was the wrong time and wrong place, Sam shock it off.

"C'mon." Sam whispered. "Lets...lets go home Dean."

________________________________________

They came stumbling out of the warehouse together, Dean supporting a drained Sam. Sam’s bag was hung over his shoulder. They had managed to find it stashed in a corner, mercifully, with all his weapons intact.

Sam had to give a small smile when Dean gave out a relieved puff of air as they came around the trees and bushes to find Baby waiting for them. Only a couple of leaves on the roof testified to how long she had been standing there alone. Dean helped Sam to the passenger seat before he collapsed heavily into the driver’s seat. Sam felt as though he was thinking through a constant layer of fog. He gritted his teeth and tried to push it away, trying to find comfort in his brother besides him.

Dean was breathing in and out deeply, eyes closed while flexing his fingers. He looked completely burned out. Sam knew all too well how foreign your own body could feel after being possessed by an angel.

"Dean." Sam said softly, his voice feeling rough for a moment and needing to clear it. "I can drive."

“Don’t be stupid, I’m good.” Dean said gruffly before reaching for the keys. “Just give me a moment.”

Sam settled into the leather seat, ignoring the fact that Dean fumbled multiple times with the keys before he managed to get it into the ignition. Slowly he got them back on the road. The steady rhythm of tires against asphalt made Sam drowsy. Blissful sleep was scratching on the edges of his consciousness when the car suddenly made a jump. Sam blinked up at Dean. Dean had stopped the car at the side of the road. His hands were shaking as he clutched the steering wheel.

"Michael." Dean said, visibly struggling to find the right words to say. "What he did to you..."

"It's not your fault." Sam repeated. "It's not your fault what he did to me."

"What Michael did to you..." Dean tried again, struggling for words. "He was...putting his grace, his blood, into you and...what?"

"I don't know." Sam said quietly. "I don't know what he wanted or why he was doing it but...he was trying something. He remembered..." he swallowed hard as well. "He knew that I used demon blood, he knew what I was able to do with it before. Maybe he just...wanted to see what would happen to me."

Dean turned to look at him, eyes scanning over him. "How do you feel?"

Sam shrugged. "I feel...drained. Exhausted." he rubbed at his chest and took a deep breath. "Everything kinda hurts but at the same time everything kinda feels like...its alive."

"Do you think the blood did something to you?" Dean asked, reaching out with a still slightly shaking hand to grip at Sams wrist, his fingers automatically moving to find and count his pulse.

"I think it did, but I have no clue what." Sam said. "It feels different than the demon blood, I don't feel like I'm...wanting it like it was before." Sam was trying to convince himself as much as Dean as he felt the persistent dry feeling in the back of his throat telling him otherwise. "And I think it did something, I can feel that it did something to me." he shrugged. 

Dean stared at him for another moment and Sam tried hard not to think about seeing blue light in Dean's eyes. He didn't want to see that ever again.

"Guess all we can do is...wait and see." Sam said quietly. "Not like there was ever a case like this before."

"Guess not." Dean said just as quietly before he let go of Sams wrist and held the steering wheel again. "Alright, let’s go home."

Dean had needed to stop multiple times. More often than not he would climb out of the Impala and walk around while breathing deeply and stretching out sore muscles. Sam had quietly offered to drive the rest of the way, but Dean refused. 

With the frequent stops and Dean’s unusually safe driving It took some time for them to get back to the bunker. Sam’s thoughts were already curling up in bed with Dean beside him and a warm blanket on top of them when the car slid into the bunkers garage. The image was snuffed out as he remembered the other people living in the bunker at the moment. Surely they had noticed him missing. He had no desire explain anything too any of them. Him becoming unreachable so suddenly or how he had gotten Dean back or how Michael was gone or-

He had no Idea where to even start and just the thought of it made him want to go to his room and sleep for two weeks straight. Too bad that wasn’t an option.

“You know the hunters from the other world” Sam began, “They are, you know, living here full time now.”

“Oh, okay then.” Dean shrugged, “I guess they wouldn’t have a lot of places to go”.

"Just know that...if it makes you uncomfortable or whatever." Sam told him. "I can tell them to leave."

Dean hesitated but then shook his head. "Its fine, worst comes to it I'll just stay in my room."

"You shouldn't have to hide, this is your home too." Sam said quietly.

They kept sitting in the car for a while, listening to the bunker coming alive around them. Sam ground loudly before gathering his strength and the weapons bag. The rest could be dealt with later. He got out of the car, Dean close behind him, making sure Sam was steady on his feet. Sam glanced back, meeting his brothers’ eyes, and he knew that Dean was just as tired as him, if not more after the long drive.

They headed towards the main room. The murmur of a dozen people talking was getting louder and louder. Sam tightened his grip on the strap of his bag as they stopped in the doorway, looking over the mess and bustle of all the people that were running around.

Caleb was the first hunter to notice them, freezing when he saw both Sam and Dean standing there before everyone else did. They fell silent for a single moment before the questions exploded. Where had he been? How was Dean with him? Where was Michael? Was he dead? Gone?

Sam tried answering all the questions, but as soon as one was given a new question came up. Sam wished they would just leave him alone, feeling a pounding in his head grow as the questions seemed to come faster. Their voices were starting to blur as his heartbeat became faster, overtaking their voices in his head. 

He could feel a familiar hand on his shoulder, pressing down and grounding him into reality.

"Sammy."

________________________________________

A little later in the evening Sam could barely keep his eyes opened. His forehead was leaning against the mirror as he washed his hands. A week's worth of dirt and grime colored the sink red. Why should he bother to try to keep his eyes open anyway he was more than happy to just fall asleep right here like this. He cupped his hands under the water and washed his face as well before he let out a deep breath.

_It was a flash of visions, flashes of something that he could barely see or grasp. Slick liquid coated his hands and fell against him. A surge of power, that was so familiar that he could almost put a name to it, was working its way throughout his very fingertips, exploding at the slightest hint of his will._

Sam gritted his teeth and slowly breathed out, whatever that had flashed through his mind fading before it disappeared and was no longer important.

Moving away he quickly took his sticky clothes off and threw them into the small hamper he kept in the corner and opened his eyes. He stared for a moment at the shower, debating whether or not to suffer through being awake some more before he decided against it. instead he picked up one of Deans older t-shirts, a worn out and soft one, perfect for sleeping. 

Stumbling back into his room Sam fell onto the bed with a pleasure filled groan, pressing hard into the bed.

Sam was half asleep when there was a soft knock on the door. He was so tired he almost teared up as he forced himself to come up onto his hands, looking at the door. "Come in." he called out wearily. 

A flush of relief went through him when he saw Dean coming in., His hair still wet from the shower he had taken and wearing a simple sweatpants and shirt. Sam fell back onto the bed and watched his brother. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Dean said sitting at the edge of the bed, watching him. “How you feeling?”

“Tired as hell.” Sam said with a sigh, letting his eyes close. “And I’m just happy that the other people are....are...”

“Are what?” Dean asked, his voice soft.

Sam frowned and opened his eyes, rubbing at them for a moment. “We came home.” he said slowly, seeing Dean nod. “We came home and we went to the war room.” another nod. “We saw the other hunters, the people from Michaels world.” a third nod. “And then we...and then we...”

_"I have to say Sam, you're making quite the progress." Michael told him, looking very pleased. "More than I thought you were going to."_

_Despite himself, and knowing that he was being gloated into doing, Sam allowed himself to ask, "What the hell are you talking about?"_

_Michael smiled at him and walked over to Sam, reaching out to grip at Sams chin and tilt his head up. "Our little game, my little experiments."_

_Sam glared up at him. "What the hell are you doing to me?" he demanded._

_Michael just smiled at him. "I'm doing something amazing." he said. "And you Sam, you're going to be such a good brother once I'm done."_

_Sam refused to let the words make him shake despite how much it sent a chill down his spine.  
"Screw you."_

_"Keep that spirit, I enjoy seeing it." Michael told him, his hand coming up to trail over his cheek. "I'm enjoying you Sam, I'm enjoying our time together."_

_Sam fought the urge to turn his head and bite at Michaels fingers. "I will find a way to kill you and get my brother back."_

_Michael just smiled at him and then leaned down until his lips were centimeters away from Sams ear. "But Sam," he murmured. "I am your brother."_

Sam started slightly when he felt Dean’s lips on his ear.

“It's alright Sam.” Dean told him, moving up more on the bed until his back was up against the headboard. “It's alright.”

Despite it all Sam couldn’t help but feel himself relax, laying his head down in Dean’s lap, whatever he was thinking about started to slip away from him, like water in his hands.

“You need me.” Sam mumbled. “After Michael, after all that, you need me more.”

“I’m okay, don’t you worry about me.” Dean said. Sam could feel Dean's lips against the crown of his head, lingering there for a moment and finally Sam started to fall asleep.

“Just relax sweetheart.” Dean murmured. “Relax, can you do that for me?”

“Can you do that for me?”

"Mom is gonna be here soon." Sam told him with a lazy smile, enjoying Dean’s fingers in his hair. "She's really looking forward to seeing you again. Wants to make sure that you're okay."

Dean looked down at him and slowly nodded, "Alright."

Sam shifted so he could stared up at him for a moment. "Dude, its mom. You're not excited?"

"No I am, I am." Dean assured him, giving him a small smile. "Just got lost in thought for a moment."

Sam sat up and nodded, suddenly not so tired anymore, "Listen, if you want to talk about it, I'm here for you."

Dean nodded as well, watching him. "Nothing to really talk about Sammy."

"Look, out of all people, I understand." Sam told him, "I was possessed by Lucifer and well..." his voice trailed off for a moment. "I remember what it was like. I remember how it felt and everything that he made me do. And just," he cleared his throat, needing a moment to drag himself up from his memories. "if you want to talk, I'm here. I'll listen, I'll understand."

"Yeah I know." Dean said, picking his phone up from his pocket after a moment. "I know man, just...don't really have much to say."

A foreign feeling went through Sam for a moment, feeling as if it was being prodded. "Well maybe you'd speak to mom about it." he said getting himself up from the bed just as he heard the door from the main war room slam shut. "That's her now." He grabbed a pair of pants hanging on a chair and started towards the room and then paused when he realized that Dean wasn't following. He turned to look at his brother who was just staring back at him. "Dean?"

"Sam? Dean?" he could hear their mom call out, her voice a bit frantic and desperate. Sam started to turn towards her voice, lips parting as he started to call out for her.

"Sammy." Dean said quietly. "Listen. Listen to me Sammy."

“Can you do that for me?”

"Sam stop! Stop! Stop!"

Sam blinked and froze, feeling his entire body just stop for a moment, his fingers shaking against skin.

Against his mom's skin. Around her neck.

Sam blinked once more, not moving away, not letting go. He could feel an assortment of bruises and pains along his body, his head was pounding and he didn't move his hands away from Mary's neck.

A small click got his attention for a moment and when he looked up he could see the other Bobby staring down at him, pure hatred and disgust in his eyes as he aimed a gun straight at his head.

"Let her go." Bobby said lowly. "Get off of her and let her go, not gonna say it again."

Sam was breathing heavily as he stared down at the gun and then back down at his mom. Fear was clear in her eyes as a bruise started to deepen on her cheek. He could feel her swallow hard and if anything that made him want to curl his fingers tighter around her.

“Sammy.” Mary whispered, her voice rough and pleading. “Please let go, please get off of me.”

“I said get off of her.” Bobby shouted, his hand shaking in anger. “Get the hell off her boy!”

It was the 'boy' part that got him the most. Some part of his mind remembered when Bobby, their real Bobby, not this fake one, would call him that and for a moment he snapped. He lifted one hand and blue light surrounded the edges of his vision as the fake Bobby was thrown back against the wall and pinned there, gun clattering to the ground.

Mary tried to use that moment, trying to break Sams grip on the hand that remained on her neck. She tried to twist free and kick at his body to no avail.

Sam was breathing heavily, his entire body shaking as he remained, he barely registered Mary trying to attack him, it didn't feel like anything against him, and his hand remained outstretched, pinning Bobby to the wall.

And the blue light, the blue light slowly starting to cloud over his vision as he desperately tried to remain afloat, feeling as if he was being dragged down to something he couldn't name.

He could hear Mary, her voice barely reaching him as if she was speaking through water, the words dulled until he could only make out the dim reminder of her voice.

_"You said so yourself Sam, she always called Dean. Always reached for Dean. Always made time to call and talk and do things with Dean."_

Sam hand was shaking and he tightened his grip around her neck, his fingers easily wrapping completely around it. He could feel her pulse thumping rapidly against his fingers and if anything it made him want to squeeze harder.

_"She turned her back on you and what happened to you. She sided with those British Men of Letters, even when she found you tortured and burned by them. She knew what they did to you, and she still sided with them. Defended them."_

Mary was scratching and punching at him, hits he barely felt and if anything it started to make him angrier. He easily picked her up with the hand at her neck and slammed her down onto the ground, almost relishing how she cried out at that.

_"Does she even care about you? Or does she see that little baby that led to her death?"_

_"Doesn't she actually hate you, despise you. You're just a reminder of what had happened."_

Sam curled his free hand into a fist, a part of his mind feeling as if he was wrapping them around Bobby's throat as well. He could hear the other man sputtering and gasping for air.

_"Her connection is to Dean, she wants to deal with Dean, she doesn't want to have anything to do with you."_

_"Every time you needed her, she was gone. She left just days after she was brought back to you. She left for the British Men of Letters. When you went to that other world, you were killed by vampires just as you were trying to get to her to get her home, and what did she do?"_

“She choose the others.” Sam grounded eyes narrowed as he gritted his teeth, his entire body shaking.

_"Exactly. She chose the other people, people she knew for a few weeks compared to the son who had been willing to sacrifice his life to get her back."_

_"Time and time again she would choose other people over you, over the son she was supposed to love."_

“Supposed to.” Sam spat out, both hands curling more. His vision was overtaken with the blue light to the point that he could barely make out her shape under him.

_"Even now, when you needed her most she was gone. And where was she?"_

“With others, not here.” Sam snarled, barely feeling as she shifted under him, arching up slightly.

_"With that other Bobby. With the other hunters. Always and always, time after time once again. Always with other people."_

_"Never choosing you."_

Sam let out a small breath and let himself fall back, no longer trying to fight the blue light that overtook him completely.

_“You know what to do Sammy.”_

He barely heard the gun go off but he felt the bullet connect with his chest.

The force from the gunshot made him stumble back, falling back behind him with a groan as he felt the pain erupt through him. Small gasps of air escaped him as he tried to breathe, his hand coming up to his chest, he heard a small thumb and knew that Bobby had come down onto the ground.

He could hear Mary coughing and when he looked up she was sitting up, her hand at her neck that was already starting to develop bruises on her skin. Her eyes were wide as she stared back at him in fear, her hand going to grip at Bobbys arm who had immediately joined her.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he could hear Bobby demanding at him, but he ignored the other man, his own breathing shuddering out of him.

Looking down at his chest he could see a part of the bullet out of his chest, a blue light surrounding it and pulsating in time with his heart.

His fingers clawed at his chest for a moment, trying to get the bullet and thinking for a moment where the nearest first aid kit but stopped when a pair of arms embraced him from behind.

He knew Deans arms anywhere and automatically he felt himself calm down and lean back into Dean's chest, letting out a small breath.

He could feel Dean's hands on his chest, moving towards the bullet. Sam let out a small sound as he felt Deans fingers curl around the bullet and pluck it away before they dipped into the bullet hole slightly.

There was something wrong, there was something severely wrong. He tried to think through the blue light in his mind and over his eyes, struggling for a moment before the light pulsated and he relaxed, no longer trying to find out what was wrong.

"You know what you need to do Sammy." Dean murmured, moving so that his lips brushed past Sams ear. "You decided it yourself."

Deans fingers were at his lips, wet with something that immediately made Sams stomach churn in hunger as he eagerly lapped at them, sucking his fingers hard and groaning in appreciation.

He could feel Deans smile against him, a rush of heat went through him and he shuddered slightly.

"You know what to do Sammy. You know what needs to be done." Dean repeated, his voice low and captivating. "Can you do that for me?"

\--------------------------------------

Sam felt as if he was drenched in blood, staring unseeingly straight ahead. His clothes were wetly clinging to him and he could already feel the blood drying on his skin.

His mind was also clear and in focus, he could think easily and the haze that had descended on him had disappeared. 

He knew everything that he had done here at this time. 

He knew....he knew...his mom....

Dimly he was aware of tears falling down his cheeks that he couldn't control, couldn't even think of possibly stopping them.

There was the quiet sound of someone walking through the blood and suddenly there were fingers under his chin, tilting his head up.

Dean looked at him for a moment before he smiled down at him, his hand shifting until he could stroke at Sams cheek.

"You did really good Sammy." he murmured, his thumb still moving over Sams cheek.

Sam was quiet for a moment as he stared up at him, feeling something inside of him cracking and breaking. "You're not Dean."

Michael just smiled at him, the smile not even close to reaching his eyes. "I am where it counts." he assured him. "I am where it needs to be."

"Why?" Sam whispered. "Why did you do this? Why did you make me think that you were Dean and that we were..."

"Why didn't you think about why?" Michael shot back. "Why didn't you think about the why Dean was suddenly back, why I had let my perfect vessel go, why all of it had happened."

Sam swallowed hard, not wanting to answer.

"Because you didn't want to think about that, you didn't want to think about the possibilities." Michael said. "You wanted to think that everything was going to be alright and it is. It is alright." Michael smiled at him. "I am going to make sure that everything is alright and that you are going to be doing amazing things."

"You made me do this." Sam whispered, feeling himself start to shake. "You made me."

Michael looked confused for a moment, turning his head to look at the mess of blood, bone, and meat. "What are you talking about?" he asked looking back at Sam, tilting his head to the side. "You did this."

"Because you made me, because you were the one that-" Sam started to say, the anger making his voice start to rise.

"I only spoke." Michael interrupted him. "All I said were words that you wanted to hear and after that, whatever you did, is on you."

"I never wanted this." Sam whispered. "She was my...my mother. I loved her."

"You loved her, or you loved the thought and idea of her?" Michael asked. "Because from what I've seen." he tapped the side of his own head. "She hasn't been doing any mothering to you. To Dean, yes. But not to you."

Sam shook his head. "She loved me." he repeated. "I know she did."

Michael just stared at him, a small bit of pity in his eyes. "That's just what you wanted to think, out of everyone that has ever been, only one person has actually loved you."

"You're lying." Sam said his voice shaking slightly. "You're lying."

"Think about it Sammy." Michael said softly. "Really think about it. No one has ever showed you that same devotion, no one has showed you that same love. Not your mother, not your father, not anyone, and especially not anyone in this bunker that was trespassing as they were." he placed a hand on his chest. "Only here."

Sam swallowed hard. "Where is everyone?" he asked lowly. "Where is everyone else that was here?"

Michael just smiled at him. "You really want to know?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer he reached out and pressed his fingers to the side of Sam's head.

Immediately Sams head was filled with rapid visions of what had happened when he had come back with whom he thought was Dean. Coming out of the garage into the main room and being met with all the hunters, they were questioning him and demanding answers and scampering around him like bugs. He had heard Dean say his name and...and...

Everything else was a blur, accenting with the ever present blue light surrounding his vision until it felt as if he was looking through smoke.

Sam watched, reliving, each murder of the people from the alternate world. He had used the weapons in his bag, pulling out his gun to shoot at them, use his blades to pin them to the wall and to the tables as he eviscerated them. Some were fast and to the point, others...others he had...

Bile rose in his throat and he had to swallow hard. 

He had raised his hand and forced people to slam against the walls, forced their neck to twist and break. All with just a single thought. He used that same power again and again, twisting joints and limbs, breaking bones and when they tried to run, he ensured that the bunker doors were closed and he easily hunted them down.

Once the carnage was done and he was there standing amidst the dead bodies, blood splattered everywhere, his mind struggling with what he had done and the attempt of breaking free of the control Michael had came forward and placed his fingers on the side of Sams head.  
His memories had been wiped and he had been placed in his bathroom washing his hands. 

Reality rushed back and Sam stumbled backwards to get away from Michaels hand, breathing heavily as he looked up at him with wide eyes, trying to find the right words to say.

"I'll admit that I had a bit of a hand in that." Michael said pulling back with a smile on his face. "But you need to understand something about those people, it was personal. If they belonged here, I wouldn't have had that happen." His face darkened over slightly for a moment. "But they were mine and I decided what happened to them. And I knew it was going to bother you, you're sensitive and that's more than alright, it's a part of who you are, so I erased your memories of them and what happened."

"You made me kill them." Sam whispered, horrified. "You made me kill all of them."

Slowly Sam felt panic spreading inside of him. They were all dead. People that he was supposed to protect, innocent people that trusted him. All dead. Dead by his hands. 

They didn’t deserve it, they didn’t deserve to be killed like that, thinking that it was Sam. Thinking that they were safe from Michael away in this universe. They didn’t deserve it and they didn’t deserve. Something else was seeping through the panic, something he couldn’t quite place.

Sam felt his stomach clench and he thought that he was going to throw up Every single death was replaying in his mind. The look on their faces as he went to them, going from happiness at seeing him to despair when they realized what he was doing.

Sam knew it now, what he was feeling, and even though he tried to push it down, he felt relief. A small gasp of laughter escaped him. They were dead and gone and no longer his problem. Dealt with in such a way that they would not be coming back. 

Based on Michaels growing smile, Sam had the feeling that he somehow knew exactly what he was feeling.

"It was personal Sammy." Michael repeated, kneeling down so that he could look down at Sam easier but still be above him slightly. "But you wanted them gone too, you'll never admit it to anyone.You wouldn't have been so reciprocal if you hadn't." he reached out and ignored Sams flinch as he stroked over his cheek. "But you can admit it to me, I'm your brother after all."

"You're not my brother!" Sam all but snarled at him, suddenly feeling a rush of power go through him. He immediately moved forward and reached for Michael, gripping him by his neck, his fingers were still wet from the blood and slipped slightly.

Michaels facial expression didn't change, he continued to smile at Sam just like before.

"Sam." Michael said in what seemed to be a soothing tone. "You know how this is going to end." his smile turned into a smirk. He reached out and placed his hand on Sams chest. "Especially now."

Sam watched Michaels eyes flash blue for a moment and a sharp rush of pain went through him. Gasping he fell to his knees, letting go of Michael and trying to breathe.

"You are mine Sam, now and forever." Michael told him, reaching out to pull him closer, his free hand gripping at Sams wrist. "It's going to be alright Sammy." his hand slide up from his chest going to Sam's head and stroking at his hair. "I'm going to take care of you until you learn. I'm here for you, little brother."

________________________________________

Sam's eyes were closed as fingers petted at his hair soothingly. There was a wrist with a deep cut at his mouth that he was slowly drinking from. They were both laying down somewhere, maybe it was his room, maybe Dean’s or maybe it wasn't even the bunker anymore. Michael had taken them somewhere and in all honesty, he couldn't bring himself to fight anymore.

"See, isn't that much better than that demon whore?" Michael murmured, his fingers still petting at Sams hair. "That disgusting blood can't even compare to this."

Sam didn't say anything, trying to ignore the matted blood on his own skin. He didn't dare open his eyes, he knew that the only thing he would see other than Michael would be the dead bodies of the people that Michael had told him to kill.

More people, more supernatural beings. All used to test him and his growing powers. He tried not to think about who they were, didn't allow himself to think if he recognized them or not.

After another moment Michael pulled his wrist away, wrapping the arm around Sam and pulling him in closer, his other hand still in Sam's hair.

“All of this is just the beginning Sammy, this little taste of power is nothing compared to what you’re going to get.” Michael told him. “You’re going to keep growing and becoming more powerful, by my side.”

He just...he just needed to bide his time. At one point during when he was drinking demon blood he was able to take on the most powerful demon, this had to be similar. He just needed to bide his time and gather his power and he could attack Michael and destroy him.

He could feel Michaels grace coursing inside of him, into almost every cell. Michael slide his hand over Sams chest and each touch made the grace inside of him alight in fire. He arched lightly into Michael's hand, unable to ignore the pleasure that it made go through him.

"And if you're really good, as a little brother, as a partner." Michael murmured, his voice low. "I'll even let you speak to Dean, face to face."

Sam shuddered hard and clenched harder, feeling his body being forced to relax with a strum of grace that was being resonated through him.

"It's all going to be alright Sammy." Michael murmured to him, and Sam allowed himself to drown in Deans voice regardless of how unfamiliar it was. He felt Michael lean over a bit and clumsily press his lips to Sams. It was the same as the voice, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, as if Michael was following a prewritten script.

Despite it Sam couldn't help but lean into it, his hand coming up to grip at Michaels arm, desperate to feel some of his brother in any way possible.

Michael chuckled and moved the both of them so that he was on top of Sam and could press him into the furniture. His movements were almost robotic as he gripped and slide over Sam.

Sam pressed into it anyway, moving to bow his head against Michaels shoulder as he breathed in slowly. Michaels hand came up to tug at Sams hair until he was able to kiss him once more.

"This is so much better than fighting, isn't it?" Michael murmured into Sam’s lips. "More pleasure will follow, more power will follow." Michael stroked over Sam’s shoulder, sliding down his arm to his hand and entwined their fingers together. "You're so good, you just needed a firm hand."

He could feel Michael breathing out slowly, all for show Sam was sure, archangels didn't need to breathe. Michaels entire body shook for a single moment and his eyes were closed. 

"Sammy?"

**Author's Note:**

> This fic took a lot out of me and holy crap was it a lot of fun to write out. The biggest and the most special shoutout is to @catcreaturecosplay for not only making incredible art for the story but also beta-ing hte crap out of the story and picking up the small, and some not so small, things that I missed out on. 
> 
> I do not own Supernatural.
> 
> Here is the link to the art: https://catcreaturecosplay.tumblr.com/post/182369086909/title-these-hands-caked-in-blood-rating-m


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